"My old eyes see a great many things I am supposed to be unable to see," she said sadly.
There was a little silence; then Marie whispered:
"Yes—I knew that."
"And so that is why I say be careful, dear child," the old lady went on. "But I know you will."
Marie bent and kissed her.
"Poor Mr. Dakers!" she said, with a little grimace. "He would run away forever and ever if he could hear what we have been saying."
Miss Chester did not answer.
Marie slept dreamlessly that night, and for the first time since her marriage woke with the feeling that there was something pleasant to look forward to.
The sun was shining and there was not a cloud in the sky as she flung the window wide.
Across the rows of houses and crowded chimney-pots she seemed to hear the voice of the country calling to her—seemed to hear the 144 wind in the trees and smell the magic of the hay.